


the man that got away

by neglectedrainbow



Category: Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson
Genre: Dealing with Emotions, M/M, Pining, Self Esteem Issues, The boys talk, and sees evan hansen the one and only, angsty angst angst but also happy ending!, inspired by ben platt's iconic performance of "the man that got away", jared deals with issues, jared goes out one night when he should be studying, jared is three dimensional, jared kleinman character study, performing at this venue, the boys apologize
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-12
Updated: 2017-07-12
Packaged: 2018-12-01 09:04:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11483112
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neglectedrainbow/pseuds/neglectedrainbow
Summary: Jared can't speak. He can’t even think. Because on the stage right in front of him, singing with one of the most beautiful voices he’s ever heard, is the one and only Evan Hansen.OR: After not seeing or speaking to each other in over eighteen months, Jared and Evan reunite during a night out.





	the man that got away

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by [this performance](http://neglectedrainbow.tumblr.com/post/162726383777/ben-platt-covers-the-man-that-got-away-at-54) I highly, highly, highly recommend that you go listen to this performance before you read this fic! You can even listen to the song while you read! Do it!

First off, Jared Kleinman is exhausted. He should be back at his dorm studying for midterms--or, more accurately, pretending to study for midterms. But, no, instead he’s pulling off his sweatpants and pulling on blue jeans, preparing to go out for the night. 

There’s a new joint that his roommate just “discovered” just a little bit off campus that apparently “plays the best music you’ll ever hear, seriously.” After months and months of pestering, Jared, not wanting to be the worst roommate ever, caved. 

So, here he is, standing in semi-nice semi-washed jeans and a casual, short-sleeved button-down, staring at his architecture textbook, wondering why in the world he ever agreed to this. His phone buzzes, alerting him of his roommate’s presence outside. Jared pulls on some shoes, hoping the fact that they’re the same black sneakers he’s worn since high school doesn’t ruin his look. 

Not that he particularly has a look going on right now, just... He sighs. It’s complicated.

James--Jared’s roommate--reaches over and flings open the passenger door for Jared once he arrives in the lot. Three other people, all of whom Jared vaguely recognizes from the party Rich threw last night, are piled in the back seats. Two girls--he thinks they’re named Katie and Olivia but he honestly has no idea--and a guy--Mark, probably.

Yeah, Jared’s head is still kind of pounding from the awful hangover he woke up to this morning, but it’s not so bad. 

He really should be studying.

Freshman year was one thing, he could dick around and get okay-ish grades and it wasn’t a big deal, but now he’s a sophomore. A sophomore in college with a declared major that needs to start getting A’s or else he’s gonna have to deal with his mom yelling at him. Again.

They pull out, zooming off campus and emerging into the city nearby. James leans over and turns up the radio, some loud, off-kilter, bass-filled nonsense that makes Jared’s chest pound. He begins to wonder, slowly, whether or not the “best music you’ll ever hear, seriously” will really be that good, especially coming from James.

“Where exactly are we going?” Jared asks, raising his voice above the music.

“You’ll find out!” a voice from the back pipes up.

James glances at him. “It’ll be great. Seriously. Like, just wait.”

Before Jared can respond, they pull up to the venue. Jared isn’t quite sure whether it’s a club or a bar or a little concert hall. He rules out bar quickly; none of them are twenty-one yet, nor do they look even close to twenty-one. Before he can think about it any further, one of the girls from the car--Katie, he thinks--marches up to the front door and motions them all inside.

Instantly, Jared pulls back, his brow furrowed. The sound of clinking glass fills the car, low murmuring and quiet laughter. The walls are a deep maroon. Everything is lush and plush, the lights dim overhead.

As Jared continues to stare around in surprise, the sound of a piano spreads over the crowd. An acoustic guitar joins, the chords merging together beautifully. Then, a voice.

A voice so rich that it silences the crowd instantly. “The night is bitter, the stars have lost their glitter, the winds grow colder. And suddenly you're older. And all because of the man that got away.” The voice raises, sweeping over the crowd.

All eyes jump to the front of the room, where there rests a small, shining stage. A man stands, singing, cradling a microphone in his hands. His eyes are closed. His body sways with the beat of the music.

Jared feels his heart stop.

He stares, frozen in place. James bumps into him, nudging him off to a booth in the back of the room. “What’s going on?” he asks, frowning.

Jared doesn’t reply. He can’t say anything (which is a rarity). He can’t even think. Because on the stage, singing with one of the most beautiful voices he’s ever heard, is the one and only Evan Hansen.

Evan Hansen, his childhood “family friend.” Evan Hansen, who stuttered and apologized during every sentence. Evan Hansen, who had daily panic attacks in the handicap stall in the boys’ bathroom and pretending not to always be on the verge of crying. Evan Hansen, who lied about being best friends with a kid who committed suicide and who raised seventy thousand dollars to build a damn orchard. 

Evan Hansen, who Jared was in love with for more than he can remember.

The Evan Hansen. Standing there, twenty feet in front of him, dressed in a dark blue (typical) shirt and black skinny jeans. Evan Hansen, with slightly longer hair that curls around the tips of his ears. _Since when is his hair curly?_ Jared asks himself, staring at the light brown strands that glisten in the golden light above him.

Evan Hansen, who used to be more terrified of public speaking than anything else in the world, is up there, in front of fifty people, _singing_.

Evan continues, his voice seamlessly transitioning through pitches, “No more his eager call, the writing's on the wall. The dreams you dreamed have all gone astray.” 

Olivia grins, setting her bag on the seat beside her, “He’s really, really good.”

“You can say that again,” Katie agrees, leaning forward in her seat for a better view of the performance.

James ignores them, though, returning to his roommate. “Seriously, dude, what’s up? You’re sitting like a statue.”

“The man that won you,” Evan croons, his hands sliding down the microphone stand in a way that shouldn’t be tantalizing but somehow is, “has gone off and undone you. That great beginning has seen the final inning. Don't know what happened. It's all a crazy game!”

Jared blinks, his heart still pounding at a ridiculous rhythm. “That’s-” he swallows, keeping his voice low, “that’s Evan Hansen.”

James freezes, his eyes going wide. He whips around, staring at the stage. “Holy shit.”

“Yeah.”

“Holy fucking shit, Jared, you’re joking, aren’t you? Like, The Evan Hansen?” James looks somewhere between overwhelming excited and nauseous.

Jared nods, “That one exactly.”

The last words he ever said to Evan ring in his head, repeating themselves over and over. _“Fuck you, Evan! Asshole!”_

Olivia spins around to them, having obviously eavesdropped on the conversation. “Evan? Evan Hansen? The Evan Hansen?”

Jared sighs, “That’s what I said.” He pauses for a second, still trying to catch his breath. “Wait, how do you know about Evan?”

“James told us the whole story,” Olivia replies. Katie and Mark nod beside her. 

Jared groans, turning to his roommate, “What the fuck?”

“It’s a really good story, Jared, I had to-”

“Wait!” Katie hisses. “Shut up, guys! Listen.”

Everyone turns back to the front of the room. The four others glance at Jared every few seconds, trying to read his unreadable expression.

Evan continues, pulling the microphone out of the stand and into his hand cleanly. “No more that all-time thrill, for you've been through the mill. And never a new love will be the same.”

Jared is flooded with memories. He remembers the feeling of Evan's body next to his, that one night Jared convinced him to sleep over. That one night Jared said Evan could sleep in his bed with Jared rather than in the living room or on the floor. _Why? Why did you do that? Why did you ask him? Why did he say yes? Why did it feel so right?_

Apart from the slight shake in his left hand and his eyes flitting around, looking to the ceiling rather than at the audience, Evan seems at ease. He inhales deeply, “Good riddance, good-bye! Every trick of his you're on to. But, fools will be fools. And where's he gone to?” His voice crescendos, reaching a peak before sliding back down, quieter than ever before. The entire room hangs onto his every word, every note.

“The road gets rougher, it's lonelier and tougher. With hope you burn up, tomorrow he may turn up.” He chuckles slightly, self-deprecatingly, as Jared tries to parse through the words, tries to figure out what it all means. “There's just no letup, the live-long night and day!”

A few people hoot as he effortlessly transitions into belting, his voice soaring over the crowd, “Ever since this world began there is nothing sadder than a one-man woman looking for the man that got away!” He looks at the crowd for the first time, a sweet, small smile spreading over his face as he concludes the song. “The man that got away.”

The crowd instantly erupts into passionate applause. Jared finds himself rising to his feet, clapping louder and more passionately than anyone else. James, Mark, Olivia, and Katie all stand up as well, cheering. Jared can see Evan’s blush and bashful smile even from his seat.

Jared swallows thickly, trying to push down the wave of heat that rises in his chest. It’s no big deal. He’s got this under control. 

“Thank you so much,” Evan whispers into the microphone before slowly walking off-stage. He’s immediately embraced by a young woman, and Jared’s heart falls out of his chest. 

Evan pulls back from the woman, a gleaming smile spreading across his face, those clean, white teeth shining.

Clenching his jaw and steadying himself, Jared slides out of the booth, his legs moving without permission from his brain.

This is ridiculous. He shouldn’t do this. He should walk out of the building and forget this ever happened, forget Evan ever even existed. He should leave. He shouldn’t do this.

“Hey,” James catches his arm, pulling him around. He stares at Jared with pitiful eyes, “Are you sure?”

Jared turns, glancing at Evan again. He should hate Evan. He should do so many things. But, for once, Jared decides to do what he wants to do, not what he should do. “Yeah, I’m sure,” he responds, pulling out of James’s grasp.

One step. Two steps. _Why are you doing this? Turn around. Forget about it all. Forget about him._

Evan’s voice echoes in his mind. Jared doesn’t want to be “the man that got away.” He doesn’t want to let Evan be that, either.

Jared never thought he’d see Hansen again. He thought, going to school in New York, that he’d forever be separated from his childhood friend. _Is “friend” even the right word, after the way you treated him,_ his brain hisses.

Though he never was very present on social media in the first place, Evan disappeared on every platform. His Facebook account still exists but hasn’t been updated in nearly fifteen months. If there weren’t the occasional vague updates from Heidi Hansen, ones that constantly mentioned her son, Jared wouldn’t even be sure if Evan was still alive.

He’s suddenly struck with the realization that he hasn’t seen Evan’s face in a year and a half. Not even a recent picture. The most recent photo update of his existence, posted on Heidi’s Facebook seven months ago, is an image of Evan walking, only the back of his torso, legs, and head visible, the workers logo of Pottery Barn spread neatly across his prominent shoulder blades. 

Jared swallows. Evan looks good. Really good. 

Those black jeans grasp around his long legs, the dark blue shirt complimenting his tanned skin. His hair is pushed back, the curls falling over each other like water.

So, yeah, Evan looks good. Too good.

Better than Jared does, but that’s not new.

He looks down at his scuffed sneakers for a second, then at Evan’s neat black loafers. Jared stares at the shoes for a few moments, feeling the overwhelming need to change his. Then, when he glances back up, he’s met with Evan staring right back at him, mouth open.

Those green eyes blaze into Jared, flickering up and down his entire body then back to his face, almost unbelieving. Evan’s throat jerks as he swallows thickly, before taking a slight step backward. He doesn’t say anything, just stares and stares and stares, blinking rapidly.

Jared turns, walking to the side of the room, where a small alcove rests, separating from the rest of the crowd. He waits, resisting the urge to turn around, to make sure that Evan follows. _He won’t follow you, he doesn’t give a shit about you, he probably never wanted to see you again._

Then, there’s a voice, too close, “Jared.” It isn’t a question, but it isn’t quite a greeting either.

Jared turns around, and there’s Evan. Right in front of him, breathing in the same air as Jared for the first time in eighteen months. “Hey,” he replies, his voice cracking embarrassingly.

Evan doesn’t react, though, just blinks and rubs his hands over the fabric of his jeans. Always in motion. Just like old times.

“I didn’t know you could sing like that,” Jared says. He’s not sure why he says it. He’s not sure why he does anything, really. But it’s happened. The words are out there. He can’t take them back.

“Yeah, I-” Evan bites down hard on his lower lip, ringing his hands, “I never sang for you, so that makes sense.” He freezes, “I never really sung for anyone. Until-until recently, so it’s not a thing that you didn’t hear me. I only sung for my mom like four weeks ago, and Liza talked me into doing this-” he motions around him “about two weeks ago, my therapist thought it would be good for my anxiety, and I’ve performed here like six times so far and only had two anxiety attacks, so... They keep asking me back, and it’s been really great, but-” He cuts himself off suddenly, those green eyes darting back to the ground. “I’m sorry.”

Jared tenses. “For what?”

Evan glances up for a second, gnawing on his lip again. Silence. Then, “For rambling.”

Jared nods, clenching his jaw. “And Liza? That’s-the girl you were hugging before?”

“Yeah, yeah, she’s my friend-she’s one of my _friends._ ” Evan emphasizes the plurality of “friends,” like he wants Jared to be sure that he’s not...not like before. “Just a friend, though, we’re not-I’m single.”

“Oh.”

“And I’m not just-” Evan closes his eyes. “I’m not just sorry about the rambling. I’m sorry about everything. About it all. The Connor Project, it was all my fault. I-I just screwed up, majorly, and it’s my fault, it all is, everything that happened. And I apologized to the Murphys and to Zoe and to my mom and to Alana, but I didn’t call you because-because I didn’t...I didn’t think you cared enough to want an apology? I fucked up, though, and I know that, and you don’t have to forgive me, but I’m sorry. I am. I’m really sorry.”

“I’ve never heard you swear before.”

Evan pauses, gaping at Jared for a few moments, before shaking his head roughly and recollecting himself. “Yeah, yeah, I don’t do it often, or at all really, just sometimes. It’s not-it’s not something, um… Yeah.”

Jared stares at the open top of Evan’s shirt, his straight collarbones resting there. “I’m sorry, too.” He looks up at the ceiling, anywhere but those damn green eyes. “For everything. For saying that you were just my ‘family friend,’ for the whole shit about the car insurance, for all that, for being a massive dick to you for years on end, for screwing up The Connor Project, for being so jealous of you and Zoe. I’m sorry for everything. For all of it.”

And he is. He is sorry. He wishes he could turn back time and make it so none of that ever happened in the first place. He wonders if it could’ve been different, if he could’ve changed up his game sooner. If he could’ve been nicer during senior year, made amends then, maybe even asked Evan to prom.

He remembers that night suddenly. It was just after his falling out with Evan. He and Alana went together, not as dates of course, barely as friends, just as the Forgotten By Evan Hansen Squad. They danced some. Mainly, they hung out in the corner of the room and tried not to notice how neither Zoe or Evan were there. 

Now, though, Evan looks at him with those same green eyes, brimming with tears. He’s seen Evan cry more times than he or Evan would like to admit. Evan tilts his head down, rubs furiously at his eyes, pretends that nothing’s happening, just like he always does. This time, though, for the first time, Jared reaches out.

His hand rests on Evan’s shoulder, pulling away quickly after Evan flinches like he’s been burned.

_You fucked up again, Jared._

Then, their eyes meet.

Slowly, calmly, Evan takes a breath, “Can I hug you?”

Quickly, haphazardly, Jared nods. He extends his arms, slowly, and Evan melts into them, tucking his head on Jared’s shoulder. Their bodies fit together like puzzle pieces. “I missed you,” Evan whispers into his neck. "I never thought I'd see you again, I had no idea you were even in the area, I'm so sorry, I-I missed you so much."

Jared tightens his embrace, one hand running through Evan’s hair. _I missed you more than words can describe._ Their bodies press together, warm. “I missed you, too,” he replies, his voice catching on a lump in his throat. _I'm so in love with you. It's been eighteen months, we've made so many mistakes, you've made so many mistakes, and yet. I'm still so in love with you._

After a few moments, Evan pulls back, clearing his throat. “May I see your phone?”

Jared shrugs and pulls it out, handing it to Evan cautiously.

“I changed my number,” Evan says, by way of explanation, carefully entering himself into Jared’s contacts. The unspoken suggestion is clear, _Text or call me, if you want to._

He’s giving Jared the power, too, the power to reach out, to be the one to decide when he’s ready. Jared nods, his throat tight, pocketing the device. “I’ll text you?”

Evan nods, “Anytime.”

Jared calls him the next day. 

They meet up a week later. 

Evan’s halfway through his first year of college at a school in the area after taking a year off to earn money, planning to major in environmental science and minor in creative writing. 

They’ve been living ten minutes away from each other for nearly six months without ever noticing.

It’s not perfect.

Not at all. They have a lot of work to do. A lot of forgiving.

But, Jared figures fate must've had this planned out for them. And Jared's not gonna screw with fate.

**Author's Note:**

> There it is! Not quite angsty, but not quite happy either. I like to believe that Jared and Evan would become friends again after the show, but I fully believe that doing so would take /a lot/ of time! Also, this may seem like one-sided, but remember that we only see Jared's perspective here (Evan is totally in love with Jared as well). I'd love to hear your thoughts down below and feel free to come talk to me about Kleinsen on [my tumblr](http://neglectedrainbow.tumblr.com). Also I love set designer/architect!Jared and writer/environmentalist!Evan so much.


End file.
